


Newton Geiszler's Christmas Plan

by offensiveagentpie



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Christmas fic, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Pacrim Secret Santa, Secret Santa Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:26:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offensiveagentpie/pseuds/offensiveagentpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt has a Plan.  So far, beyond the extensive set-up period that has led him to the laboratory doors, it has one step: wing it.  But it’s a Plan deserving a capital letter nonetheless, because it’s important.  It’s very important…the sort of important that the magic of Christmas just <i>has</i> to help him with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Newton Geiszler's Christmas Plan

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my Pacrim Secret Santa fic for [saponaceous](http://saponaceous.tumblr.com).
> 
> I do hope you enjoy it and I hope you have a Merry Christmas and a great holiday season! <3<3<3

It’s no secret to Newton Geiszler that he has a kind-of-sort-of massive, all consuming crush on his lab partner. It’s a fact that he’s come to accept; it’s something as true to him as basic chemistry. Because when you get two drastically different elements together, there’s bound to be a reaction of some sort. This time it just turned out to be a crush on his lab partner, and reluctant best friend of the past decade. Yeah, he may be an adult who should probably be using a different term to describe what’s going on, but nothing else fits. He’s crushing on Hermann and he’s got it _bad_.

He’s _had_ it bad for quite some time. So he’s decided to up and do something about it.

Newt has a Plan. So far, beyond the extensive set-up period that has led him to the laboratory doors, it has one step: wing it. But it’s a Plan deserving a capital letter nonetheless, because it’s important. It’s very important…the sort of important that the magic of Christmas just _has_ to help him with. If it doesn’t, Newt has been let down by basically every holiday movie and romantic comedy that has been made in the history of _forever_. He dwells for a moment on whether not by the end of the night, Santa himself will show up to congratulate him and decides that, with giant monsters from another dimension attacking the planet, weirder things have happened.

He’d entertain that thought further, but that would be stalling. And stalling is most definitely not part of the Plan.

So, he takes a deep breath and kicks the door of the lab open.

“O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum, wie treu sind deine Blätter!”

His voice echoes, loud and pleasingly long, through the lab as he walks closer to the blackboards where Hermann is, of course, working away. He’s stopped long enough to cast an angry look over his shoulder at Newton though.

“Hah! I told Tendo you’d still be in here!” he cries out as he fully comes into Hermann’s line of sight. The man’s eyebrows take a predicted jump for his hairline.

“Newton, what on _earth_ are you wearing?”

“You honestly forgot, didn’t you? Today was Tendo’s ugly sweater party, it’s Christmas Eve, dude!”

The vaguely foggy look Hermann gives to the floor tells Newt that yes, Hermann has actually forgotten that it’s _Christmas_ for crying out loud. But that’s okay, Newt can work with this, he’s worked with Hermann’s ability to get completely and utterly lost in his numbers for years, this should be a cakewalk.

“I thought you’d be like, first in line for top prize given the contents of your wardrobe,” Newton says around a laugh, snapping Hermann out of his reverie.

“Very funny,” he grumbles. 

“I’m a delight and you know it, why don’t you get down here and have some dinner with me?”

There’s a pause as Hermann notices the covered aluminum tray that Newt brought with him. He quirks an eyebrow, but comes down the ladder. Excellent, score one for Newt.

“Do I dare inquire what’s in the tray? Or will I be treated to a lecture about kaiju spleen specimens if I do?"

Newton squints his eyes, tries not to rise to the bait, and fails. “You know damn well that kaiju don’t have a spleen _per se_ , but instead they have a—“

“Spare me please,” Hermann says dryly. 

He struggles and fails again, this time giving into the urge to roll his eyes. “I’ll give you a pass this once, it being Christmas and all. Anyway, I figured since you’ve been sequestered in here, keeping up your grumpy professor street cred, I’d bring the party to you.”

Hermann looks a little bashful at that, and _god help him_ it makes Newt’s insides squirm. 

He puts the tray on Hermann’s desk, no use getting worked up yet, still lots to do. “Ta dah!” he says theatrically. “I’ve brought the finest, mass prepared food the PPDC was able to provide for us this festive night. So it’s just the usual fare, but this time with holly patterns on the plates. Please keep your awe to a polite minimum.”

Sure enough, bright red berries and green leaves circle the rims of the plates that are filled with sandwiches. They’re stuffed in the tray along with some bags of pretzels.

Hermann actually chuckles at his little spiel, and Newt’s heart just about stops. “Well, they tried. At least they didn’t give us that sorry excuse for eggnog that we had our second year in Lima.”

Newton pulls a face like he’s biting in to a lemon. “Oh my god, dude, I managed to forget that and now you go and bring it up, why?”

Hermann wrinkles his nose as well, lowering himself into his desk chair and grabbing a ham sandwich. “That’s what the holidays are for right? Reminiscing?”

Bingo. 

Newt’s not going to let that conversational chestnut go un-cracked.

“You’re not wrong,” he says, dragging a chair from his side of the lab. Crossing the taped line feels like some sort of Christmas truce and that’s perfect, he definitely wants this to be a ‘good bickering’ kind of night. The kind where they feel like an old married couple, and not two people that could legitimately and horrifically kill each other.

“But if we’re going down the nostalgia route,” he flops into the chair and kicks his feet up on the side of Hermann’s chair, next to his good hip. The fact that Hermann gives him a pursed lipped look of disapproval, but does not tell him to remove his feet, allows Newt to award himself another point. “I want to hear about other Christmases, preferably ones that don’t involve PPDC approved eggnog.”

Hermann’s eyes narrow in slight suspicion. “And why, pray tell, is that?”

Newt shrugs, and tries for nonchalance as he tears open a bag of pretzels. “You brought it up, Mr. Holiday Reminiscing…so tell me about Christmases enjoyed by little Hermann.”

There’s another pause as Hermann stares him down, is his face getting red? It feels like it might be, dammit. It’ll be no good if Hermann gets even more suspicious…

“Well, I suppose my favorites were the ones that I spent at my Oma’s house,” Hermann says with a small shrug and a tilt of his head.

“Oh man, you call your grandma Oma? That’s…that’s the cutest thing,” Newt says before he can censor himself.

Color starts on Hermann’s cheeks. “It’s a perfectly normal name for someone to call their Grandmother, thank you.”

Damn. He definitely does not want to get Hermann in defensive mode. He throws his hands up in a placating gesture. “No, it definitely is, go on.”

Hermann gives him a look before continuing. “It was mostly when I was younger and still living in Garmisch-Partenkirchen. She would have the biggest, most clichéd German Christmases you could possibly imagine. She’d bake enough for the entire town, and her Pfeffernüsse were second to none,” he stares off into the distance. “And she’d take us to the Weihnachtsmarkt as often as she was able to, the smell of spice was almost overwhelming and the lights were just…beautiful. I haven’t seen anything like it since, simple but lovely.”

Hermman’s voice trails off and Newt’s stomach is in a knot. 

“What happened?” he asks quietly.

Hermann shakes himself slightly and continues on in his normal tone of voice. “We moved to England when I was 15, and we didn’t have much reason to travel back. Even for the holidays. Father never did get along very well with his mother, they were polar opposites. While she’s boisterous and, to be fair a bit overwhelming, father is… well, let’s just say he was building walls long before the kaiju emerged,” he lets out a harsh exhale at that.

“I haven’t been to one of Oma’s Christmases since. I’ve promised her that as soon as we get this thing figured out, and according to her we most definitely will, I’ll visit again for Christmas. Which I’m certain will prove to be an event to end all events.”

Newt nearly chokes on a piece of sandwich. “You mean she’s—?”

Hermann looks at him quizzically. “Still alive? Yes. Sorry, I only meant to refer to the Christmases in past tense. Oma is 96 years old and still as energetic as she was at 50.”

“That’s awesome, she sounds like quite the lady,” Newt says with a smile.

“Oh she is,” Hermann answers with a smile of his own, Newt could write _odes_ to the crinkles that appear around his eyes. “I’m sure the two of you would get along like old friends, she’s very much like you in her enthusiasms. I’d love for the two of you to meet, though I may not survive it. You should accompany me when I do return.”

Hermann’s not meeting his eyes when he says it, instead he’s looking a bit awkwardly at in the general direction of Newt’s knee. But Newt couldn’t care less. He’s too lost in immediate and vivid fantasies of travelling with Hermann to his hometown. There would be adorable little Bavarian homes with cozy fireplaces that they’d cuddle in front of, they would eat themselves into a rich German-food-induced-coma, and Hermann’s grandma would be there (Newt stereotypically imagines her in a dirndl of all things), and she’d give them her blessing, they’d pretty much be _married_ at that point anyway right? And oh _god_ it would be amazing…

“Newton?”

And he has completely lost himself in a daydream.

“What?”

Hermann gives him a pointed look. “I asked about your Christmases, what were they like as you were growing up?”

“Oh! Right,” memories flash through his mind like quick turning pages in a flip book. “Well, we never really had any really big celebrations. It was just me, my dad, and my uncle. But it was always really great. We’d do carols on Christmas Eve, my dad and I would trade off on guitar and piano, and all three of us would sing. Then on Christmas Day we’d open presents and stay in for a movie marathon, I got my love of all things pop-culture from those two. We’d pop in a DVD, sit down with some take-out, and-“

“Take-out?” Hermann interrupts.

Newt shrugs. “None of us were very skilled cooks. So we’d stock up on take-out and just be lazy for the day.”

“You didn’t bake or have any cookies?” Hermann blusters, he seems almost affronted.

“Sometimes our neighbors would bring us some, but nope, we aren’t a family particularly gifted in the culinary arts, at least not enough to go all out for a big Christmas meal.”

“Then we will definitely be baking cookies during future holidays,” Hermann says decisively.

Something in Newt’s stomach does a somersault. Not only does that imply that Hermann is _definitely_ thinking of spending future Christmases with him, but it nearly drags him into another fantasy involving cheeks smeared with flour, and kissing icing off of noses.

“Noted,” he says, clearing his throat. “But, yeah. Other than that, our one major holiday tradition was my uncle’s light displays. They were the talk of the town, dude. Never underestimate an engineer when it comes to making lights do cool stuff. We had animatronics, music synchronization…the works. There’d be people gathered around the yard on the day we’d set it up, waiting for him to plug it in with his trademark phrase: Eat your heart out, Clark Griswold,” Newt finishes with a chuckle.

“Was he a rival for your light display dominance?”

“Who?”

“Clark Griswold.”

Newton stares at him for a moment. “Dude…seriously? You don’t know ‘Christmas Vacation’?”

Hermann shakes his head.

“It’s a holiday movie classic! Oh man, if you’re gonna risk your life with me in a kitchen; I’m definitely going to force you into watching an entire catalog of Christmas movies.”

“My anticipation knows no bounds,” Hermann says, but there’s the hint of a smile beneath that sarcasm.

Which is good, this whole thing is good, Newt is feeling good. He just needs to find a way to bring this around to a point where he can—

“I also see that your love of Christmas lights has branched over into the sequined variety,” Hermann says pointing at his sweater. “Which, really Newton, I can’t ignore this any longer. Your distaste in my attire notwithstanding, that’s truly atrocious.”

Newt manages to refrain from letting out a whoop of victory. Hermann is on point with his conversation tonight…he knows _just_ how to play out the Plan now.

“This?” he asks, pulling the sweater out from his body. There’s a large cabin knitted onto the front of it. It’s decked out in sparkly sequined lights and there are big white pompoms trailing from the chimney as smoke. The main body of the sweater is dark blue, but the sleeves are a mishmash of patterns that is truly eye watering. “This is a classic, Herms. This got me through a ton of ugly sweater parties in grad school.”

“Good lord, you’ve been wearing it in public for that long?”

“People love it. But, it’s not even the highlight of my true holiday outfit, oh no,” and this is it, this is his ‘go big or go home’ move. It’s ridiculous, and it’s probably not going to work, but if there’s anything that can get him into Hermann’s good graces, it’s his ability to be a complete and utter fool when he needs to be. The stuffy nerd _loves it _though he’d be the first to argue that he doesn’t.__

__And he totally has Christmas magic on his side, he can feel it._ _

__He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a stretchy head band. Once he’s got it settled on his head, he can see a pipe cleaner sticking out of the front, dangling a sprig of plastic mistletoe in front of his face._ _

__“This is the crowning glory; with this I am completely irresistible,” he leans forward a bit to emphasize his point._ _

__A beat of silence passes between them._ _

__Then another._ _

__…and another._ _

__Hermann blinks a few times before a short, quick exhale escapes his nose. Within the second, Hermann is overtaken with laughter. And if his adorable eye crinkles were bad before, then this is a whole new ball game._ _

__Newt wants to feel disappointed, but with this vision of gawky hilarity before him he just can’t. He breaks down laughing too._ _

__“You know, I had a feeling you had something planned since you willingly skipped out on a party where there is, undoubtedly dubiously obtained alcohol. But, my word I could not have expected that,” Hermann says once they’ve both calmed down to giggles._ _

__“So you’re immune to my charm then, planned or otherwise?” Newt asks._ _

__Hermann shifts forward in his chair. ““Mm, I don’t believe so. I have offered to teach you to bake at my grandmother’s on Christmas…and that was before the absurd addition of faux mistletoe.”_ _

__Hermann is now _incredibly_ close to his face. “You’re rhyming,” Newt says stupidly._ _

__“You’re an idiot,” Hermann is the only person in the world that can make that sound fond. Newt is about to state just that, but he’s currently too busy being kissed under fake berries to do so._ _

__And at that realization, everything shuts down except the point of contact that their lips are sharing. It’s soft and gentle and so, so warm. The air smells of chalk dust and formaldehyde and Hermann’s skin is rough and dry where his hand is cupping Newt’s cheek, and everything is _perfect_._ _

__It lasts for seconds, minutes, hours…Newt’s not sure, but he’s sure that it ends too soon when there’s a loud pounding on the lab door._ _

__“Merry Christmas, nerds!” Tendo’s muffled voice calls cheerfully through the door._ _

__Hermann presses their foreheads together, (and what a perfect little gesture _that_ is, Newt’s instantly in love with it), as Newton turns slightly to look at the clock._ _

__“00:17, Merry Christmas, Herms.”_ _

__Hermann turns Newt’s face back for another kiss, he can feel the “Merry Christmas, Newton,” that Hermann says, against his lips._ _

___It_ totally _is_ , Newt thinks as he kisses him back._ _

**Author's Note:**

> And a huge thank you to my beta [fr0styfingers](http://fr0styfingers.tumblr.com/)


End file.
